


Breaking the Rules

by Star_less



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Age Play, Alternate Universe, Desperation, Diapers, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Messy, Non-Sexual Age Play, OC/Niall, Omorashi, Originally Posted on deviantART, Request for the bae (yo becky this is yours), Scat, Spanking, baby!Niall, fyi Niall is a chimney sweep, request, this is set in like 1860
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-02-06 11:03:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1855696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_less/pseuds/Star_less
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall is a chimney sweep. It is cold, it is hard work, and there's never a privy around when you need one. He is miserable, until the boss' young daughter saves him. What? Not all heroes wear capes; this one happens to be a pretty girl in a dress.. with nappies, milk and cuddles - all for Niall!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking the Rules

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RoyalFunky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoyalFunky/gifts).



> This was a request for my /best friend ngl/ friend on deviantART (RoyalFunky, seriously check her out) who is also the main girl in the story! Don't be too put off.. she's awesome :D /and totally my bae/  
> She has read this at least once, hopefully. 
> 
> I felt bad for not posting many fics on here so decided to post this. It's different to the usual ageplay fanfics, no? :) Don't be put off by it's AU-ness or the time frame either! Anyway.. read, enjoy, kudos, go back to shipping Larry Stylinson.. - whatever you like! P:

Niall was the youngest worker at the house of Mr Wood. The young boy was a chimney sweep, and it was told to all that he was a good chimney sweep too; but what chimney sweep was scared of the dark and the muck and the creepy crawlies? That's what Mr Wood said, and that's what the small Irish lad was repeating to himself as he inched toward the chimney. 

"Well, ge' on wi' it lad, d'you want ten lashes?" Mr Wood sighed impatiently, pushing Niall forward. "And do a good job, this time, or yer'll be out on ya backside." He hissed, and pointed to the wet, murky streets of England circa 1860.

Niall whimpered, scurrying into the chimney fully clothed. He couldn't be left alone! Unlike the other sweeps, Niall was orphaned, and as horrible as Mr Wood was, Niall still had a home due to him.  
But it was so dark up there in the chimney, and smelly, and anything that touched him was making him flinch. Plus, the longer he spent up there, getting himself flustered, that a need for the privy was becoming more and more urgent. Sniffling, Niall wriggled around, poking at certain spots, pushing himself further up with his elbows and scraping them raw red.  
He continued poking about and wriggling (lest he disgrace himself right there) before falling back down right to the bottom with a _thump_. His blue eyes pierced the black of his skin and he sat smally as piles of ash and dust collected about him. His clothes were dusty, with fresh holes worn in the elbows and knees, and both elbow and knee red and sore. Niall needed the privy most of all but he didn't dare move. Not when he had made a mess already, and Mr Wood had stormed over and tugged him up sharply by the ear. Niall whimpered sadly and stood, knees turned in.

"Child," He snapped, and Niall whimpered in response. "D'you think this is work? This is what I pay you for, to create a mess of my quarters? Do you have that little respect for elders, rat?" He snarled and raged on, Niall cowering from his powerful shout.  
When it fell silent, after what felt like painful hours of Niall wishing and hoping for a rescue; Niall had loosened up and was about to leave, but there was still a firm grip on his ear. "Oh no you don't-- over my lap, now!"  
Niall was finally let go of. He stood in the ash piles, rubbing his sore ear, and watched as Mr Wood took the cane down from it's place next to the fire. Niall's heart started thudding in his chest, his breath caught and he scrambled backwards to get away. "Oh--! Please, please don't! Not the cane!" Niall protested with a whimper. "Not th-- the cane.. s-sir..." He begged, but was too slow, as he got dragged up, yanked, and thrown back down again over the boss' lap. It felt cold on his bottom, too.

"This--" Mr Wood said, through gritted teeth as Niall fell to tears, "S'what timewasting, no-good scound'els get in my house." He said, and let the cane slash down over the sensitive skin of Niall's bottom.  
Niall winced. He was held down with a firm hand, lest he escape, and howled and writhed when the cane came down on his skin with a splintering crack. Each hit came harder than the next, over sore tender skin, blooming bright red-white with each lash. His 'sit spot' was whacked countless times, as a 'per--so--nal reminder' of his punishment, or at least that's what Mr Wood said. Niall thought it not a very nice 'per--so--nal reminder' at all.  
By hit 4, Niall was whimpering, voice fraying with tears. By 8, he was heaving back tears, and praying it over. He couldn't dare cry, and make it worse.  
"Papa--!? Wh- what?"  
Then, during hit 9; Becky, the eldest daughter, swept into the room, with bowls of thin gruel balancing in her arms. Niall was still bent over, weeping in pain and still shifting. Though his face blossomed as red as his backside as he peeped up and found a girl looking at him, especially when she could see his bottom. He whimpered in mortification and frantically tried to get himself down and his soot-covered underpants back up, but he felt the cane swooshing back down again and squeezed his eyes tightly shut, waiting for the impact.  
\--And waiting.. and waiting some more. Now, Niall would never willingly wait for another hit, but he was sure he would get one, and to change a cold heart like Mr Wood's was very nearly impossible. He looked up once more, through wet eyelashes, and found Becky had yanked the cane out of her father's hands. 

"What are you doing?" Becky piped up, staring at her father. It was risky; her father had made it clear she was not too old for punishment either, but she wanted to know. The boy was that cute young scrap, Niall, come all the way from Ireland; and staying at their home. She had kept an eye on him when he'd look about the place, and occasionally smuggle out sweets for him; or help spoon up his gruel in the morning, when he tipped it down his front. He was usually so happy.. but this time Niall was crying, red and sore all over with deep lashes that surely couldn't mean he'd only had one spanking..

"Look at the mess, lass, he can hardly be highly trained enough! I can't trust him - I will be searching for a new sweep come the morning-- and he will be out!"  
Niall whimpered, laying still at the news. Tears formed at the corners of his eyes. He was hurting, but he didn't want to be kicked out!  
Becky winced.  
It was a bit of a mess in the room. But on the other hand, the babe was only a scrap, and couldn't be out in the cold, he'd develop a fever like a shot. "He is a child, Papa, you can't rely on him to be a sweep-- he's much too little, so of course he won't be trained! I'll clean the floor on behalf of this little lad here." She finally said, smiling serenely. This was sure to get her out of any corporal punishment. Mr Wood seemed intent on having his eldest being a scullery maid, and insisted on her reading Mrs Beeton's Book Of Household Management as help. Becky did, of course, but found some of it terribly rigid.  
And before anyone could protest, Becky helped Niall get himself tucked back in, and swished out of the room, leaving the gruel bowls, plus her father muttering about 'insolent children', and going twitchy with rage behind her. However, it didn't trouble the girl, for she knew he would be at a cat house to 'clear his mind'; whatever that meant.

Niall sniffled and burrowed himself tightly against this Becky girl. It was the first cuddle he'd had in weeks, and he liked Becky's dress. Her dress was pale blue, and was flouncy at the bottom - nothing like his Mam used to wear, but it was warm and comforting, and the silky material rubbed against his cheek to soothe him. Though the soot and the muck from his face had left telltale smudges on her dress and when Niall realized, he recoiled, eyes filling with frightened tears again. He didn't want more lashes! He didn't want to fend for himself! Becky, who's hand had fallen slowly to rubbing circles on Niall's sore back, pulled away gently as Niall began to visibly tremble.  
"My love, what on earth's the matter?"  
Becky cooed, and sighed sympathetically as specks of dust fluttered off of him. "You're filthy, little one, you've got my dress mucky."  
Niall cried even louder. Becky clicked soon after, and had a protective arm around him while shushing his cries. "We'll get you a bath, don't you worry. Little lads like you are meant to be filthy.." She promised, and carried him through to the kitchen to get hot water for the tin bathtub. "Now, clothes off."

Niall was still blushing furiously, though behind his sooted skin it was impossible to see. He gingerly got his holey clothing off, and stood fidgeting and hiding his boy bits from Becky. His need to go to the privy was urgent, and he could hear Becky pouring the water noisily into the bathtub. Niall, being shy, was trying to hide this from the elder girl in front of him, but finally had to let a frantic sort of whimper pass his lips.

"Y'need t'use the privy? I don't want you disgracing yourself in the tub, lad, an' I can take ya, if ya need.." Becky asked, turning around, and catching Niall in the middle of a panicky little squirm.  
Ah.  
Maybe he couldn't wait any longer. Becky backtracked. "Never mind that. Chamber pot?" She said gently. Niall blinked slowly, but nodded, shifting on his feet. Becky got the clean pot out of the cupboard and turned her back on the shy lad, smiling privately as she heard him tinkling loudly. It seemed he could only go if she wasn't peeping, as his stream stopped and started unsurely.  
When Niall was done, he coughed and blushed. Becky set the half-full pot aside for a clean, and settled Niall down in the bath.  
The water was lukewarm and perfect. Niall swished his hands through the water as Becky kneeled at his side and began scrubbing him clean with carbolic soap.  
Niall was obedient for the pretty girl; not minding how she scrubbed at him. It gave him a sense of comfort, and he was only wincing a little as the sore spots on his bottom began to hurt. "Ouch.." He whispered.  
"Ouch?" Becky repeated softly to Niall. "Aww, d'yer knees and elbows hurt?" She asked, rubbing the red points. Niall nodded pitifully, pining for attention, but also gestured to the sore welts on his bottom.  
"I'm sure we can fix it, Niall." She promised, getting a tin jug of water ready. "Castor oil first, lad."  
"Wha's that?" Niall rocked a little on his heels.  
"Just a little something t'keep your tummy good." Becky shrugged, holding out the spoon. Castor oil was given once a week for her bathtimes as a small child, so it must be given to Niall too. Niall opened his mouth and let her put the spoon in. She did so quickly, so he wouldn't taste it's intensity.  
She held up the filled jug and began tipping it over his hair gently, watching the soot fall out, and scrubbing with determination at Niall's head; while at the same time trying to be delicate. Becky wanted to clean him, not get the poor lamb hurt even more. And-- and then she saw Niall's hair!-- it... was blonde!  
"Oh!" Becky smiled.  
Niall looked bewildered. What? Had he done something wrong? B- but..  
His lip began to tremble.  
"Oh.. Niall!" Becky giggled a little. "What's wrong?"  
"What's wrong? Wh-- why 'oh'?" He whimpered, scooting back against the tub defensively.  
"Good 'oh'. T'was a good 'oh', my love." Becky promised, smoothing his damp, dirty blonde locks. "Your hair, I think it's so pretty."  
"You-- you do?"  
Niall blushed a little, and giggled.  
"Yes. Come now, let's get you cleaned off properly. I'll dress your sores so they won't hurt." Becky said, her hand on the red small of Niall's back as he stood in the tub. She eased him out, and stood him, dripping and shivering, in front of the fire to warm, with a towel wrapped around him to dry off. Once he was, and Becky had got him back his undergarments, she had a proper look at him, wincing sympathetically. He had sores all over, rubbed raw on his knees, clustered on each elbow and even lining up his legs near his private parts, the poor love. Becky delicately cleaned him up, but was surprised at the lack of protest. She looked up from where she was cleaning one knee, and found him nodding gently, his eyelids fluttering, heavy with sleep. Bathtime always made him tired.  
Pursing her lips, Becky gently lifted him, and laid him to rest in her bedroom, with a cleaned thin shirt to wear, as she could wash the sooted ones. Niall barely reacted, inching closer to her warmth, and resting his thumb on his lip, so it was there if he wanted to comfort-suckle during his sleep.  
Becky simply smiled, nestled him in, and let him be.

Niall awoke only thirty minutes later, rested enough, but ravenous for something to eat. He looked around. Where was that nice girl? He whimpered. She can't have left him! He couldn't get food himself! He didn't know how to make any food!  
Whimpering, he tottered up and went wandering, hopefully in the direction of Becky, since he wanted her more than his tummy wanted food. But he especially liked her gruel, when it was sweet and warm. Definitely not salty.  
He wandered the halls of the house, gradually growing fretful. Where was she? He needed her!  
Niall's eyes glassed over, and the gems of tears rested on his cheeks as he brought his thumb back to his mouth for a comfort-suckle. He suckled, and whimpered, beginning to whine pitifully; just as Becky stepped out of the 'launder room' and he went rustling into her dress, scrabbling for comfort.  
Becky gasped, and looked down. "Oh hea-- Niall!"  
She lifted the whining boy into her arms, holding him closely and letting him nestle against the bodice of the dress. "What's wrong, little one?" She asked, kissing what part of him she could.  
"M' tummy's hungry." He said pitifully, and Becky let out an unladylike hoot of a giggle.  
"Niall!"  
Niall jumped, his eyes big and blue with fear. "Wh- wha'--?"  
"Y'only want me f'my food, lad!"  
Becky chucked him under the chin, and he squeaked and shook his head. "No. No, ma'am." He corrected himself, speaking older, as he thought it'd impress the elder girl more. Becky smiled faintly as he went on, "I like you too."  
Becky smiled fondly, and simply carried him away, back to the kitchen. 

According to Becky, Niall needed fattening up. She'd said so on the way.  
Niall was rather worried over this. He had heard many people, even his Mam from long ago, talk about fattening things up, when they wanted to eat them. Niall didn't quite fancy being eaten. He was hunched over in the kitchen, sucking his thumb furiously to calm himself. Becky was holding a pot in one hand, and stirring it.  
"Um, ma'am."  
Niall whispered.  
"Yes?"  
Becky turned to him.  
"D- don't eat me?" He whimpered.  
Becky was puzzled, and kneeled to his level on the kitchen floor. "M'not going to eat you, laddie.. heavens, why would I?"  
"Y'said.. I needed fatt'ning up." He said worriedly. "Me Mam used'ta fatt'n th' chickens up. And eat them." His eyes were big and blue again, and he was nodding, as if eating the chickens were bad, but they were more like a feast.  
"Niall!"  
Becky chuckled again. "M'not going t' eat you, lad." She insisted. "M'gonna put meat on yer bones. Th'sparrows ou'side got more meat on them than you."  
Niall still looked clueless. Becky broke it down even further. "M'givin' yer a feast, Ni. Y'need a fatter tummy."  
Niall's eyes lit up.  
Typical Niall. He nodded eagerly, and waited there at the stove.  
And when it was ready? Oh-- what a feast he had! The young boy sat on Becky's lap (It was her meal too; Niall had cajoled her into eating) and stared at the pitiful table; but it was crammed with food. There were bowls of gruel, bread, cheese, fruit, ham; jelly, even pretty looking fruit tart. Lots! Yum!  
Niall eagerly reached for the foods, but Becky gently nudged him back. "Ah-ah, love. Eat yer bread n' dripping first." She pointed to a bowl. It was sure to fatten him up a bit.  
Niall grimaced a little. "Don't want." He pouted. It looked yucky. Tasted it too, honest.  
"Ya want it on toast?" She asked, and his pout deepened.  
"Nuh."  
Becky sighed in defeat as he pouted at her. "Fine, fine. Have at it, lad."  
And so he did, gulping down as much as possible. Becky feared he'd develop a tummyache, and sat with him as he ate. When he was finished eating, he fell back against her and whined. His tummy was full.  
"Eaten too much. Tummy ache." Becky told him knowingly, and felt him nod. She sat and rubbed his tummy in soft circles, humming at him. They sat like that for a while, but Niall's pain wasn't going away, and it seemed to be getting worse. He began to fidget restlessly.  
Becky watched the fidgeting boy, and hummed again. "Mmm.. you need to use the privy again?" He had had the castor oil after all, and so much food. Poor love.  
Niall paused for a long moment, and nodded again, his cheeks burning a bright red. Becky heard him mumbling something about a 2, and in between grimacing, giggled. "I know, lad, s'why we're popping to the privy." She promised, and kept him sat close with her as she walked. 

The privy was, of course, outside. It was times like this - when it was windy and cold and wet; that Becky wished the privies could at least be put indoors. But Niall was whimpering nervously against her, so she couldn't worry about that now since he needed the privy quite urgently.  
"Here we are.."  
Becky set him down.  
Niall sighed softly. He looked at Becky nervously, and stepped inside. The privy was the norm for him, even when he was with Mam, but his Mam often stayed with him while he went, protecting him from the darkness and squishing anything creepy-crawlie like, if it got too near to him. But he couldn't ask Becky to do the same, could he?  
Niall was squirming terribly by now, and he mewled. Ouch, ouch.  
He peeped out hesitantly.  
Becky caught sight of him. "Finished?"  
Niall felt his cheeks go red, and he shook his head. "Need-- need you to stay." He pleaded. "T'get the creepy crawlies away when I go, and because it's dark.."  
To Niall's relief, Becky nodded, and squeezed inside the small privy with the desperate boy. This was not something she'd expected to be doing for the trainee chimney sweep at all, and she hoped that this part of it wouldn't be a permanent thing, but at the same time, Niall sought for comfort in her which was cute. Her back was turned again, and Niall finally went. Once he was finished, he looked hopefully back at her. Becky helped him sluice his hands with water and then lifted him up, a plan forming in her head. 

"Niall." She told him, kissing his ear softly, as she trudged through to the house once more. "Will ye play by yerself for a little while?"  
Niall was playing absentmindedly with the fabric of Becky's dress again, and nodded. Becky smiled and set him down, before going off by herself, dress swishing. Niall whimpered slightly after her, but calmed himself, and sat; sucking on his thumb. 

Becky returned soon after, her arms full with.. stuff. Niall squinted curiously at her. It did, genuinely, just look like.. stuff. "Wha's that?" He pointed. Becky kneeled to his level once more, and set the things out. There was a cloth nappy, for little babies, powder, and some odd looking red underpants.  
"Baby nappy.." Niall said thoughtfully as he looked at Becky.  
She nodded. "For yer toileting, lovey."  
"Toi--let--ing?" He repeated.  
Becky nodded once more, "When you need a wee, or worse. You go right there. No privy. No more hurt from wee accidents, too!"  
Niall nodded hesitantly. Mam used to put them on him, when he was weak with fever and couldn't be getting to the privy all the time. He was quite used to them, and missed the soft feeling, and the powder scent, and being babied. Sometimes, he'd fake fever just to get one on him. He reached out happily.  
Becky's smile was pleasant; that was easy!  
She welcomed him into her arms; lifting his small shirt slightly, and lowering his underpants. Niall was still a little shy; obviously so, whimpering and trying in vain to hide his bits, but Becky paid no attention. She sprinkled powder, and wrapped the cloth nappy over him, pinning it carefully at the front and giving him strict instructions to not play with the pin, for it was sharp, and would hurt him.  
Then she took the odd red pants, and put them over the cloth nappy, to act as a cover.  
"Helps hold more wee." Becky told Niall simply, when he looked puzzled.

This treatment of Niall continued as Becky continued her scullery maid training over the days. She knew her father found Niall's treatment insulting, but he didn't lay a finger on Niall, which was good. Niall was enjoying this treatment too. His wounds were regularly checked, soothed and had poultices placed on them if they were too bad. Becky reluctantly abided by the rules of Mrs. Beeton, and while looking after Niall, let him see what she was reading. Niall thought it was a book specifically for all Mam's everywhere; and that it told them how to look after their children, which was why Becky had one. She wasn't his Mam, but she was his Mummy by then, so it was fine. On the subject of Niall.. His nappy was regularly wet too, he didn't seem to miss the privy. Well, who would?  
But in short, Becky was treating him well, and it looked like he may be able to return to his duties as a chimney sweep. May.  
When she had a free hour, with Niall asleep, Becky went searching for her father, to request this. He should, if she remembered, be getting in from a night out. 

"Papa." She stood in the doorway, as he entered after his night at the cathouse just minutes later. He was merry, but still cold.  
"Rebecca." He told her passively, and Becky winced, but continued.  
"I-- I... request Niall Horan continues his duties as chimney sweep. Starting.. tomorrow." She said shakily.  
"Rebecca, lass. He is a child mentally younger than he should be. The blame is put on you for this." He told her again, a rough edge to his voice. He talked oddly nicely, but it just made Becky squirm.  
"Plus, he is insolent, and not worth my monies. Starting tomorrow morning, there'll be a new chimney sweep. I trust you to help Niall get his clothes and pay and send him back to th' workhouse.  
Becky bit her lip and sighed, the fight given up. Her father was determined, and there was no changing it. 

The next day came too fast for Becky. Much too fast. She awoke to find Niall uncomfortably prodding the rubber nappy cover, a sure sign he had wet right through to it, and putting on a smile Becky lifted him up. "Change, little one?" She cooed, kissing his cheek, and carrying him through to the kitchen. The tin basin was set out ready, as it had been for each day and change. Niall stood patiently up in the bath, watching as the nappy cover, soaked through, was slid off and set down. He wriggled slightly as Becky moved to unbutton the pin of the cloth nappy, and Becky held him still, sternly warning him the pin would prick him if he wasn't careful.  
Niall whimpered. He didn't fancy getting prodded with the pin, so stilled himself, and let the cloth nappy come off. He didn't even move to cover himself up; having become much less shy; at least in front of the elder. Soon enough, Becky had fastened the next nappy over him, and let the other garments soak as she lifted Niall up.  
" I 'ungry." Niall told Becky, holding onto her dress again.  
"Y'still wan' me f'the food, lad." Becky chuckled fondly.  
Niall just giggled. 

The two sat and had breakfast; gruel again, Niall's favourite. He shifted on Becky's lap and opened his mouth. Becky put the last spoonful in. "All gone. Y'ate it all, Ni. Good lad."  
Niall whined. "M'want more, Mum."  
"That's Mummy to you." Becky said sternly. She heard the sound of eager footsteps coming up the path to the house, and sighed deeply, standing up with Niall, who had just burrowed into her; only just waking properly from slumber.  
"Niall." She told him gently. 

Niall blinked up, eyes big and blue and innocent; Becky's heart nearly broke there and then. He barely knew what was coming.  
"M-hm?" He said.  
"Now, lad. I want yer t'be a good strong boy for Mummy." Her voice shook.  
Niall whimpered. What? What was going on? Was Mummy sad? His eyes crinkled in confusion, bunched up against her. But then, he saw someone enter the house. In.. in his clothes? B- but he was the only chimney sweep. He had to stay! His heart beat faster in his chest and his lip began to tremble. He couldn't leave! Who would feed him gruel, who would get his nappy on, who would he snuggle up against? Niall could barely stand the thought, and bawled. Becky just moved closer, and closer to the door, and Niall gripped onto her and wept right through her silky dress, his nose snotty. But, at least Becky didn't let go of him. She stepped outside, even in the rain, and paced, rubbing circles on his back, humming into his ear; until his heaving sobs turned to sniffles, and his sniffles turned into the low steady breathing that meant he was asleep.  
"Don't y'worry y'pretty little head, little lad. Mummy's comin' w'you." Becky whispered. She was sick and tired of her father's attitude toward her; long before Niall, and speaking of the lad - Niall needed her. It was a nice feeling; to be needed so.  
She had few belongings; just the Mrs Beeton book, her Bible and dresses, but surely that was all she needed. Sweeping back into the house, she took hers (and Niall's) pay, the two books, and had them wrapped in her dress. Yes, t'were a struggle, to carry both Niall and her belongings, but she managed.

Becky had enough pay, and enough experience, to set her and Niall off comfortably, and they lived happily together for years. The blasted book, of which Becky had dutifully listened to, yet not really believed a word of; was hidden away for most of those years because truthfully, she never wanted to see it. Until, when both were long married and side by side in bed, Niall had pulled it out again.  
"Wha's this?"  
"Got me m'scullery maid job." Becky murmured tiredly. She rubbed her eyes. "Bu' I said, 'sod th'book.'. Broke every rule. Looked after ye, I weren't meant to." She told Niall. "Now. Said yer 'Hail Mary's', lad?"  
"Yes, Becky."  
Becky looked sternly at him.  
"Yes, Mummy." Niall amended, and Becky nodded approvingly. "Last wee?"  
"Yes Mummy." He murmured, eyelids fluttering a little with sleep.  
"Good lad. Night, love." Becky pulled him in close, and closed her eyes. Niall copied, and when she was sure Niall was fast asleep, Becky dumped the book, with it's broken rules, under the bed. To hopefully never be spoken of again.


End file.
